Troi. Thy Better must. Cre. Hark, one word in your ear. Troi. O plague, and madness! Ulyf. You are mov'd, Prince; let us depart, I pray you, Left your displeasure fhould enlarge itself You fly to great diftraction: come, my lord. Ulyf. You have not patience; come. Troi. I pray you, ftay; by hell, and by hell's torments, I will not speak a word. Dio. And fo, good night. Cre. Nay, but you part in anger? Troi. Doth that grieve thee? O wither'd truth! Ulyf. Why, how now, lord? Troi. By Jove, I will be patient. Cre. Guardian-why Greek Dio. Pho, pho, adieu! you palter. Cre. In faith I do not; come hither once again. Ulys. You shake, my lord, at fomething; will you go? You will break out. Troi. She ftrokes his cheek. Ulyf. Come, come. Troi. Nay, ftay; by Jove, I will not speak a word. There is between my will and all offences A guard of patience: ftay a little while. Ther. How the devil luxury with his fat rump and potato finger tickles these together! fry, letchery, fry! Dio. But will you then? Cre. In faith, I will, la; never trust me else. Dio 470 Dio. Give me fome token for the furety of it. Ulyf. You have fworn patience. I will not be myself, nor have cognition [Exit. Re-enter Creffida. Ther. Now the pledge; now, now, now. Troi. I will be patient, outwardly, I will. Cre. You look upon that fleeve; behold it well:He lov'd me:-O falfe wench!-Give't me again. Dio. Whofe was't? Cre. It is no matter, now I have❜t again. I will not meet with you to morrow night: I pr'ythee, Diomede, vifit me no more. Ther. Now the sharpens: well faid, whetstone. Cre. What, this? Cre. O, all ye Gods!- O pretty, pretty pledge; Of thee and me, and fighs, and takes my glove, As I kifs thee. [Diomedes fnatches the fleeve. Nay, do not fnatch it from me: He, that takes that, must take my heart withal. Cre. You fhall not have it, Diomede: faith, you fhall not: I'll give you fomething else. Dio. Dio. I will have this: whofe was it? Cre. 'Tis no matter. Dio. Come, tell me whofe it was? Cre. 'Twas one that lov'd me better than you will. But, now you have it, take it. Dio. Whofe was it? Gre. By all Diana's waiting-women yonder, And by herself, I will not tell you whose. Dio. To morrow will I wear it on my helm, And grieve his fpirit, that dares not challenge it. Troi. Wert thou the Devil, and wor'ft it on thy horn, It should be challeng❜d. Cre. Well, well, 'tis done, 'tis paft; and yet it is not I will not keep my word. Dio. Why then, farewel. Thou never shalt mock Diomede again. Cre. You fhall not go;-one cannot speak a word, But it straight starts you. Dio. I do not like this fooling. Ther. Nor I, by Pluto: but that that likes not you, pleases me beft. Dio. What, fhall I come? the hour? Cre. Ay, come:-O Jove !-do, come : I fhall be plagued, Dio. Farewel 'till then. Cre. Good night: I pr'ythee, come. [Exit. [Exit. 3 By all Diana's waiting-women yonder.] i, e. the stars which fhe points to. SCE E NE V. Ther. A proof of ftrength fhe could not publish more; Unless fhe fay, my mind is now turn'd whore, Uly. Why stay we then? Troi. To make a recordation to my foul, Was Creffid here? Uly. I cannot conjure, Trojan. Troi. She was not, fure. Ulyf. Moft fure, fhe was. Troi. Why, my negation hath no taste of madness." Ulyf. Nor mine, my lord: Creffid was here but now. Troi. Let it not be believ'd, for woman-hood! Think, we had mothers; do not give advantage To ftubborn criticks, apt, without a theme For depravation, to fquare all the fex By Creffid's rule. Rather think this not Creffid. iTrai. Nothing at all, unless that this was fhe. If there be rule in unity itself, This is not fhe. O madness of difcourfe! The fractions of her faith, orts of her love, Troi. Ay, Greek, and that shall be divulged well; In characters, as red as Mars his heart Inflam'd with Venus-ne'er did young man fancy Hark, Greek, as much as I do Creffid love, That fleeve is mine, that he'll bear in his helm : where reafon can revolt Without perdition, and lofs affume all reafon Without revolt.] A miferable expreffion of a quaint thought, That to be unreasonable in love is reasonable; and to be reasonable, unreafonable. Perdition and lofs are both used in the very fame sense, and that an odd one, to fignify unreasonablenefs. Con |